


let us be the unexpected

by peachys



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Ballet, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Public Hand Jobs, Underage Drinking, dumb boys falling in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-08 01:25:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8824618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachys/pseuds/peachys
Summary: Yuri is used to overworking himself but Otabek helps him see everything he's been missing out on.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> just a few things:  
> -this takes place in america  
> -yuri is 18 in this, otabek is 21.  
> -if you really, really don't like this pairing, i don't care.  
> -you don't have to read this
> 
> If you like this please consider [commissioning me!](https://misoyoongi.tumblr.com/post/166154977751/writing-commissions)

Yuri’s legs are burning.

He hasn’t stopped dancing for hours now, the time slipping by unnoticed. His whole body aches, actually, but he doesn’t stop, just keeps going because he _has_ to keep going, has to get this all perfect. He’s used to it, the burn feeling like something familiar to come back to every day, something to keep him grounded in his purpose.

Everyone had gone home a while ago, leaving him alone in the dimmed studio with only his reflection in the mirrors for company. His hair is a mess, either sticking up at odd angles or sticking to his forehead with the sweat dripping down his skin. There’s heavy bags lining the undersides of his eyes, making it look like he hasn’t slept in days which really isn’t all that untrue. These days, he’s been getting such little sleep, rushing home after late practices to catch two or three hours before he’s rushing back, well before the sun has even thought about rising because he has to get in those few extra hours of practice before anyone else gets there. He needs to be the best.

It’s hard work, Yuri knew that when he started all this. It was what he wanted, though and now he’d never dream about backing out. He had to keep going, had to keep pushing and pushing, taking from his body all that it could offer until there was no more and then he’d keep going but-

But his ankle is twisting suddenly, pain flaring up his leg and he’s falling down onto the hard wooden floor. He cries out, his lips parting in a pained gasp but no one is there to hear it. He’s gotten hurt before, everything from broken ankles to deep, ugly bruises. He’s gone through it all but this time as he massages the joint tears well up in Yuri’s eyes, slipping down his cheeks and mixing with his sweat. It doesn’t even hurt that bad though he’s probably going to be limping for a few hours but still he cries.

He’s not really sure why he’s crying in the first place. He’s never done that before not even when he broke his ankle right in half when he was fifteen and had to sit out of practice for weeks. This is different; this is frustrations, anger, the fear of not being able to get to where he wants to be.

The tears well and spill over, down his cheeks and to the floor. His hair has gotten so long lately, falling over his face and blinding him more than the tears. Yuri combs it back angrily with his fingers, more tears of frustration falling when the knots pull, and makes a messy, crooked, ponytail.

 It’s not fair, he still has so much to practice. He can’t stop now, what’ll he do? The walk back home seems so dreadful, so long. He’s so used to spending most nights there in the studio that he can’t even fathom the idea of going home at this time. He falls back against the cold, stiff floor, well-worn from years of being danced on. He lays there for what feels like hours, just thinking and contemplating about his next move. He can keep dancing but that would definitely lead to a break and right now, he can’t afford that, not since Victor left and everything has fallen on him.

He has to get better even though everyone already reassures him he’s the best but not in the world, just his hometown. He’s already proven it to those around him, he just needs to prove it to everyone else, to the world. Yuri’s chest rattles in his chest and he sighs, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands until he sees stars and then some. The fatigue is catching up and the longer he lays there he more tired he feels, the more likely he is to fall asleep right there on that floor.

He has to do something.

Yuri doesn’t hear the door open, doesn’t even notice the other presence in the room until there’s a warm hand on his shoulder, startling him. Yuri sits up and desperately wipes the tears from his eyes on his shirt, wipes them away until he can see Yuuko’s face right in front of him, bright and warm and smiling though the worry in her eyes is obvious.

“You’re still here,” she says calmly, wrapping her fingers around Yuri’s wrist and helping him stand. He leans all of his weight on her, trying not to put pressure on his foot until the pain goes away.

Yuri scoffs. “When am I not here?” There’s some bitter type of laughter in his voice but nothing serious. Yuuko always warmed up his mood when he was there, always made him feel better. “But what about you?”

“I came looking for you,” Yuuko says, leading Yuri over to the coat rack. There’s something in him willing him to resist, to go back to practicing but the throbbing in his ankle says otherwise so he follows Yuuko, lets her grab his coat and slip it on over his shoulders. She cups his face and wipes her thumbs under his eyes, wiping away what’s left of the tears. “Don’t you ever get tired?”

“No.” Yuuko’s hand wraps around Yuri’s and she leads him outside, into the dark and quiet streets. It’s warm but Yuri always gets cold easily, especially this late at night. “I- you know I have to practice, Yuuko.”

“Yeah, everyone does but not that much, not like you do. You’re hurting yourself. I can see the bruises, Yuri. You’re even limping now.”

There’s something in her tone, something she doesn’t usually let slip through. Yuri swallows and wraps his fingers around hers. “I’m okay.”

She smiles at him and pretends to believe him before she’s tugging at his hand and leading him down the sidewalk, past buildings and into the busier parts of town, where the crowds get thicker and louder. It’s been a while since Yuri has been down here.

“Where are you taking me?” He asks, looking around. Now that summer’s come no one stays cooped up inside anymore, willing away the cold months. Everyone is wearing short sleeves and shorts, holding drinks in their hands and laughing, pressed one against the other. There’s all types of restaurants lining this street and the music coming from each of them mingles together to create a cacophony of sound. It’s all so bright and wonderful and a nostalgic feeling settles in Yuri’s stomach. He hasn’t been out in so long, hadn’t even noticed the fairy lights they’d hung up, each day passing with the same routine over and over again until it became monotonous.

“There’s a concert at the park. You’re going with me.”

“A concert?”

“Mhmm,” Yuuko says. “Just some local kids. You don’t have to like it but at least get out of that studio.”

“I like that studio,” Yuri grumbles, quickening his pace to keep up with Yuuko despite the pain in his ankle. It doesn’t bother him too much now.

“Maybe too much.”

The closer they get to the park the louder it gets. They reach the hill and Yuri can see the make shift stage, set up by the lake and with the band already playing on it. It’s loud but Yuri can’t make out the music they’re playing. He guesses it’s pretty shitty anyway.

They stumble down the hill and into the park. The grass is bright green; Yuri can see that even in the dim light. It’s wet, sticking to his shoes and his jeans and he knows there’s gonna be a stain in the fabric in the morning. There’s already people gathered around the stage, plastic cups in their hands full of drinks that Yuri can only assume come from the coolers pushed off to the side. Yuuko shoves a cup in his hand and Yuri downs it immediately, grimacing at the taste of cheap beer filling his mouth. It’s gotten considerably louder now that they’re practically standing in front of the stage, people shouting over each other to be heard.

It’s not too bad, Yuri has to admit. The main singer’s voice is smooth and deep, floating over the park as he sings. Yuri looks over the band, takes in the appearance of these guys he’s never seen before. They look like the exact opposite of the kind of crowd Yuri hangs around, rough and tough and tattooed. His eyes catch on the drummer, the man catching his gaze while not even losing the beat. His hair is dark, his eyes even darker and as his gaze lingers on Yuri, something shifts. The corners of his lips lift up, just the smallest trace of a smile but it’s there and Yuri sees it, he _wants_ Yuri to see it.

Yuri looks away, his cheeks turning red and heads out to the coolers, grabbing another cup of beer. It’s cheap and disgusting but Yuri practically guzzles it all down anyway. He loses Yuuko sometime along the night and gravitates between the stage and the coolers, his eyes on the pretty drummer the entire time until his vision starts to swim and then he takes a seat down on the grass, a few ways off from everyone else. From there he can see everything so it doesn’t really matter too much.

The band plays a lot of songs, dragging along the night as their music fills the air. It’s all original, as far as Yuri can tell and they’re good, better than he’d expected. He tries to enjoy the show but each time his eyes flit up his gaze lingers on the drummer. His hair is slicked back, slowly falling into his eyes as he gets more and more into the music but every now and again his eyes flit up, searching through the crowd for something and his eyebrows scrunch up when he can’t quite find it.

Yuri bites his lip, drawing his legs up to his chest and resting his head on top of his knees. He watches the man on that stage until the show ends, watches his hair fly around and the sweat drip down his skin and the way his muscles flex under the tight black shirt he’s wearing. Yuri thinks that this man plays drums with the same passion that he dances.

When it ends, the noise is louder than it was when Yuri first got there if that’s even possible. He claps along with the others, soft and slow, a small smile gracing his face. It was a good show. It’s almost one in the morning and later he’d have to thank Yuuko; this was better than staying at the studio or just going home.

This was better than his usual routine. They all gather down in the grass, drinking and laughing and talking. Yuri’s lost track of the drummer, he’d disappeared somewhere in the crowd once they’d come off the stage probably to drink and mingle with everyone else. There’s music blaring from the speakers someone had brought along, loud and mind-numbing. It’s the most popular stuff in the market right now, what everyone loves these days. Yuri’s heard none of it.

His cup had gone empty a while ago but it’s still in his hand, the last dregs of the beer sitting at the very bottom. He should probably get up and get another one but he’s so comfortable he can’t even fathom standing at the present moment. If only he could stay out there for two or three forevers, watching everyone drink and laugh and dance along clumsily.

If only.

He knows he has to leave soon, get to bed so he can get to the studio early the next morning but there’s a pair of shoes appearing in his line of sight, big and scuffed and well-worn. Yuri follows a line up until he reaches the person’s face and it’s a face that he’s been watching all night, near heart stopping up close.

“You like watching other people have fun?” He asks. There’s another cup in his hand which he promptly hands over to Yuri. His voice is amazing, fantastic, sends goosebumps down Yuri’s spine and has him soaring. He takes the cup as calmly as he can, though, and pretends not to notice when their fingers brush. Whether on accident or on purpose, Yuri doesn’t know but he has a feeling that this man does.

“It’s a hobby,” Yuri shrugs, taking a drink. He’s a little buzzed right about now, all of the drinks he’s had throughout the night coming together and mixing in his bloodstream. A few more and Yuri will be gone until the morning with nothing but hazy memories of the night before. “How’d you find me?” He’s scared to look over at the man that’s taken a seat next to him, scared to see the rugged beauty that sits so right on his face.

“Been looking for you all night,” he says and Yuri is sure there’s a shrug somewhere in there. “Lost you somewhere in the crowd.”

“Any particular reason why?”

“Well, there were a lot of people and-“

“No,” Yuri says, rolling his eyes. “Why were you looking for me?”

“Oh.” The man laughs throatily and leans back on his elbows, eyes hooded and set on the people down below them. “With eyes like that- well, I guess most people would go to the ends of the world for you.”

Yuri’s cheeks are _burning,_ like small forest fires ignited right there in his face. His eyes are wide and his lips parted slightly because no one- no one had ever said anything to the likes of what just spilled out of this man’s mouth and Yuri feels a little lost, actually. He takes a long sip of his beer and then almost spits it out when a hand lands on his knee.

“Sorry if I was too forward.”

“I-“ Yuri stutters, which he _never_ does but then again he’s never approached by cute strangers like this. He’s never approached by strangers at all, actually and so his human interaction is very limited and he has no idea what to do in a situation like this. “You’re fine,” he settles on, voice soft but loud enough to carry over the music. He finally looks up at the man and he’s smiling, hair swept across his forehead. He’s changed into a muscle shirt, Yuri notices and there’s a small tattoo of a dove on his upper arm.

“What’s your name?” He asks and Yuri’s throat is dry, no more beer in his cup to offer him relief.

This man is incredibly handsome, especially with that small smile on his face but Yuri takes it that he’s more on the serious side normally.

“What’s yours?”

His eyebrows are thick and dark and his lips are nice. Yuri really shouldn’t be looking at them as much as he is but it’s hard, especially when the man swipes his tongue across them. Yuri should be heading home already but there’s this stranger, holding him back with just a look here and a touch there and some well-placed words that have him melting. Things like this don’t happen to Yuri, not now in the middle of a park where it’s hot and humid and just about every teenager in town has decided to have an impromptu dance party after what was probably and impromptu concert and this certainly doesn’t happen with people like the man he has in front of him, tall and handsome with nice eyes and a smile to die for.

This doesn’t happen but it is and the man is reaching his hand out, introducing himself as “ _Otabek Altin.”_

Yuri takes his hand and shakes it, rolling the name around in his head, memorizing it in every aspect possible. _Otabek Altin._ At least now he has a name that he can place to that gorgeous face.  

It takes a few moments for him to realize that the man is looking at him expectantly.

“Oh. My name.”

“Yeah.” The man- Otabek laughs softly under his breath as if he can’t quite believe the silliness of what Yuri has just said. “What, you’re not gonna give it to me?”

Yuri likes to pride himself in his ability to think ahead before he opens his mouth and speaks, something that’s kept him out of trouble before unlike most of the people he knows but now as he blurts out “earn it,” he thinks that the beer has gone more to his head than he thought. Still, Otabek grins so wide his face almost splits in half.

“I can do that,” he says, something dangerous flashing across his eyes. “Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”

Yuri grins. His hair is slowly slipping out of the hair tie holding it in place and falling all around his face and brushing over his shoulders. He really needs a haircut but he’s always liked the way he looks with long hair; the way the blond strands frame his face. “Something like that. That was your band, right?”

“Something like that.” His eyes are set low, on the people down below. Yuri doesn’t know if summer vacation has started yet or if this is just a way to pass the weekend. He graduated a while ago and after that the only thing he’s known is ballet. “I’m just the drummer. JJ, he’s the hotshot lead singer.”

“JJ? He looks like a douche.”

Otabek laughs, his head tilting back. “Well, you didn’t hear it from me.”

Yuri isn’t very good at flirting, even if this is what they’re doing in the first place but he’s a little bit drunk and Otabek is more than a little bit pretty but it’s fine. Everything is going to be fine. “You look good up there.”

“Do I?” Yuri’s head fills with wonderment when he looks into Otabek’s eyes. Wonderment and awe and okay- okay, maybe Yuri just wants to kiss him a little. Just lean forward and- “Come dance with me.”

“What?”

“Yeah.” Otabek stands and grabs their cups, throwing them somewhere behind them. “C’mon. I love this song.”

Yuri’s never heard it before, but the beat is nice; torturously slow, something Yuri could sway his hips to if only he knew how. He lets Otabek take his hand and lead him down, so that they’re standing at the edge of the crowd, standing closer than they’ve been all night now. It’s nice and Otabek is warm. Yuri could get lost in this.

Everyone else is dancing around them, the swaying of bodies like the waves of an ocean. Yuri’s eyes land on Otabek’s chin, too scared to say the thought that’s on his mind. He knows what the man in front of him wants but not how to do it. Yuri doesn’t know how to sway his hips or grind or do whatever it is that all the people around him are doing.

“I-“ Yuri starts, his voice kind of wobbly, maybe from beer or nerves or both. He doesn’t really know. “I don’t-“

Otabek smiles softly. He’s so tall and his hands or so warm and big when they land on Yuri’s hips. “You don’t know what to do?”

Yuri shakes his head. “Show me?”

“Gladly,” Otabek says and flips Yuri around until they’re pressed back-to-chest and then they’re moving, slowly and sensually. Yuri closes his eyes, letting the beat and those hands on his hips guide him. He leans his head back against Otabek’s shoulder, his hand coming up to thread through that dark hair. The shaved sides tickle against his palm and he can feel the thick bulge pressing against his ass.

“Is this okay?” Otabek’s voice is low, words whispered right against Yuri’s skin. There’s people bumping against them, disrupting the beat that they set but they’re each lost in their own world.

“Yeah,” Yuri sighs, not even really sure if Otabek hears him but finding that he doesn’t care too much. “T-this is okay.”

Otabek’s lips brush against that sensitive spot between shoulder and neck. The touch is barely there but Yuri feels it like fire, hot and scorching and spreading across his body. He wants more so he turns, now chest to chest with Otabek. He doesn’t know where to put his hands so they end up wrapped around the other’s neck. Over his shoulder Yuri sports Yuuko, surrounded by a group of girls. Their eyes meet and she waves enthusiastically before sending him a thumbs up, her smile wide. Yuri makes a mental note to thank her later because now he’s too distracted by a certain someone in front of him to even think about going anywhere else.

Otabek’s nose brushes against Yuri’s cheek and his lips follow soon after. It’s chaste but Yuri doesn’t want chaste, or at least the beer in his gut doesn’t. He tilts his head up a bit, inch by inch as he pouts his lips, trying to get his point across without actually having to say it. He realizes briefly that his hair tie has fallen off and his hair must be all over the place. Otabek’s hands land in Yuri’s hair, fingers combing through the sweaty strands and getting caught in the knots. Even now, without a guide, Yuri’s hips continue to sway. Maybe he can’t keep the beat but it’s something, at least.  

Yuri’s heart is beating wildly in his chest and he’s warm all over, anticipation building in his gut and ready to burst at any second. He’s never done this before and he’s not sure what to expect but the soft press of lips against his own is soft and gentle. Yuri’s hips have lost their rhythm completely and now he’s just grinding against Otabek, wanting more of those lips on his that taste like beer and a hint of strawberries. It takes him a moment to get used to the touch, the electric buzz humming under his skin. It takes him a moment but then he’s parting his lips, allowing Otabek’s tongue into his mouth to flick over his teeth and over the roof of his mouth and it just might be the best thing he’s ever experienced.

Otabek leaves Yuri’s lips to plant kisses down his neck, all the way down to his shoulder. Yuri feels kind of dizzy, unsteady on his feet and if it weren’t for the hands on him he would have fallen over already and gotten trampled by the crowd. He’s breathing hard, gasping for breath but he can’t actually seem to get any into his lungs. Still, he doesn’t try to push Otabek away. There’s teeth nipping at his skin, biting down hard enough to leave a mark that would only last a few moments. Yuri gasps, pressing closer, wanting more. He can’t find it in himself to feel embarrassed for doing this in front of so many people because it just feels so amazing, so right.

They pull away eventually and Yuri feels his lips swollen and spit slick. Otabek is looking down at him, his eyes kind of soft and this thumb is swiping over his bottom lip. There’s someone tugging at his arm, trying to get his attention. Yuri’s vision is swimming, hazy and unfocused.

The man that’s tugging at Otabek’s arm Yuri recognizes as one of the other band members and if his memory is as good as he’s used to it being, it’s the bass player. He looks so serious, bordering on angry but there’s nothing to be angry about here. Maybe it’s just his face.

“Otabek,” he says, only sparing Yuri a quick glance. “JJ’s waiting. Says he wants us to meet someone.”

“Yeah,” Otabek breaths, tugging Yuri just that much closer. “I’ll be there in a minute, okay Seung-gil?”

The man nods, seemingly pleased with Otabek’s answer and moves away. Yuri doesn’t follow him as he disappears through the crowd, his eyes instead snapping back to Otabek’s face.

Otabek smiles and places a peck on Yuri’s lips, cupping his face almost tenderly. “I’ll be back, yeah?” Yuri doesn’t want to let go but Otabek is already stepping away. The loss of warmth makes him shiver, his jacket suddenly not enough. “Wait for me?”

Yuri nods, tilting from side to side in an effort to stay upright. His legs are still shaking and his skin is still buzzing everywhere Otabek touched him. “I’ll wait,” he says but he’s sure that Otabek doesn’t hear him, already lost in the crowd. He takes a moment to himself, enough time to collect himself and get a hold of his surroundings. How long he’d spent with Otabek he didn’t know, too lost in the moment to pay attention to anything else. When he thinks he’s steady enough he starts to move, one foot in front of the other until he’s reached Yuuko and the girls she’s with, all of their cheeks rosy and their smiles wide from the alcohol. Yuuko has always been better at making friends than him so it’s no surprise to find her surrounded by so many people. Yuri knows he’ll always be her favorite, though.

“Hey,” she says, wrapping an arm around Yuri’s shoulder and pulling him close. She’s warm and Yuri presses himself into her side. “I see you were having fun. Aren’t you glad that I got you out of that studio?”

“Yeah,” Yuri nods, a small grin playing at his face. He nods in greeting at all of the other girls around them, each of them tipsy in their own way.

“Where’d he go anyway?” Yuuko asks, using Yuri for leverage as she stands on the tips of her toes to scan over the crowd. Yuri discretely does the same and he thinks he can see Otabek’s mop of black hair somewhere towards the back but it could just be someone else. “Don’t tell me he just left you like that.”

“No,” Yuri answers. He feels tired, his eyelids already starting to droop. “He had to go somewhere ‘n’ do something.”

“You okay?”

“’M drunk.”

Yuuko laughs softly. “Alright, let’s get you home.”

The thought of a warm bed suddenly floods Yuri’s mind. It’s an appealing thought, but- “I told him I’d wait for him.”

“You can see him again later. Tomorrow maybe.”

“Yuuko-“ Yuri tips forward and if it weren’t for the hand on his chest he probably would have fallen flat on his face. “I didn’t even get his number.”

Yuuko sighs. “C’mon. Let’s go. You probably won’t even remember this in the morning.”

Yuri thinks that she’s wrong, that it’s impossible to forget a night like this and a man like Otabek but he lets Yuuko take his hand and lead him away from the group of girls and the park and the man he’d just kissed lost somewhere in the crowd.

It gets quieter the further they get from the park. Yuri’s ears are ringing and his blood is buzzing and he’s kind of dizzy, the feeling of Otabek’s lips on his still lingering. He’s probably going to have a massive hangover in the morning.

The street Yuuko leads them down is quiet, everyone already fast asleep at this late hour. The streetlights are bright, creating a path for them to follow all the way to Yuri’s apartment.

“So, what’s his name?” Yuuko asks, bumping her hip against Yuri’s and sending him stumbling to the side a few paces. “He doesn’t look like your type.”

Yuri scoffs. “I don’t even think I’ve been with enough people to _have_ a type.”

“Right. His name?”

“Otabek,” Yuri says while the roaring sound of an engine suddenly cuts through the quiet of the background. “Am I drunk or was he really, really pretty?”

“Both?” Yuuko offers unhelpfully. “Hey, I’m just really glad you had fun.”

“Yeah.” The roaring of the engine is getting louder. It’s no car Yuri has ever heard before so it’s probably a motorcycle. “Yuuko, I think you might need to carry me.”

“Sure,” Yuuko answers. “If you want us both on the ground. “C’mon, just a few more blocks, yeah?”

Yuri has never wanted to fall asleep on wet grass so badly before but right now it seems like a perfectly good option. He’s already tugging at Yuuko’s sleeve, about to tell her to just leave him here and he’ll get home in the morning but the roar of the engine is drowning out his voice, suddenly right next to them. He jumps about a foot in the air, his hand tightening around Yuuko’s arm.

He looks over and spots the hair first, then the eyes and the lips and the thick thighs stretched over the leather seat. Maybe he’s seeing things but that voice saying, “I thought you were going to wait for me,” is too real.

Yuri steps off the curb and goes to where Otabek is in the middle of the empty street, still sitting on his bike, helmet in his hand.

“How’d you find me?”

He shrugs. “Luck. C’mon, get on, I’ll give you a ride.”

Yuri is already nodding before Otabek has even finished his sentenced but Yuuko is holding him back.

“Yuri…”

“It’s fine,” Yuri slurs, shaking off Yuuko’s hand and grabbing the helmet Otabek offers him. “I’ll be fine.”

“How many beers have you had?” She asks Otabek, hands on her hips, looking more like the concerned friend than Yuri has ever seen her.

“Just one or two,” Otabek shrugs. Yuri gets behind him, his arms immediately wrapping around the other man’s waist. “We’ll be fine. I’d never put him in danger.”

Yuuko sighs in resignation. She knows that even if she didn’t want Yuri on that bike he’d go anyway because if he was stubborn sober than he was even more so drunk.

He waves at Yuuko as they start moving down the street, the bike picking up more and more speed. He trusts Otabek to keep them safe but it’s just that he’s never been on a motorcycle before. It’s fast, the wind nipping at his skin but Otabek is so solid around his arms that the thought of being scared doesn’t even cross Yuri’s mind. Otabek isn’t wearing a helmet, Yuri notices and finds himself a little worried. He tightens his grip around the man, as if that would keep him safe.

When they stop it’s in front of a place Yuri doesn’t know and it’s certainly not his apartment.

“Where are we?” he asks, taking the helmet off and taking Otabek’s offered hand as he struggles to get off the bike. Their hands stay connected all the way inside the brightly lit place.

“A diner,” Otabek says, grinning down at Yuri. “I’m hungry. Is this okay? I can take you home if you really want.”

“No, it’s-“ The smell of food fills Yuri’s nose, thick and greasy and his mouth waters at the same time that his stomach growls. “It’s fine but I don’t have any money.”

“Hey, if I brought you then I’m paying. C’mon.” Otabek leads them over to a booth at the very back even though the place is practically empty at this time of night except for the staff. The menus are already on the table. “Pick anything you want.”

Yuri groans softly under his breath. “I just want the greasiest thing on here.”

“Got it.”

It seems like Otabek comes here often. He’s friendly with the night staff and doesn’t even have to look at the menu when he orders two chocolate milkshakes and two of their biggest cheese burgers.

Yuri feels at ease, sitting there on that booth with his knees knocking against Otabek’s every now and again. It’s nice, better than the park because now they can talk without having to yell over other people.

“Hey, do you think I’ve earned your name yet?”

“What?”

“Your name. You never gave it to me.”

“Oh.” Yuri chews on his lip and looks down at the table, his hands clasped in his lap. “It’s Yuri.”

“Japanese?”

“Plisetsky.”

“Ah, Russian.”

“Yeah.” The milkshakes come first, served in tall glasses with whipped cream and a cherry on top, of course. Yuri eats the cherry first but Otabek takes his and places it on the napkin to the side. Yuri doesn’t know if he’s saving it for later or just doesn’t want to eat it. “Don’t compare me to Japanese Yuri’s.”

Otabek looks at him kind of funny. “What, you have bad experiences with them?”

Yuri shrugs. “Something like that.”

“Yuri,” Otabek says and Yuri’s eyes snap back up to him. “I like that name. It suits you.”

“Well, it _is_ my name.”

Otabek laughs. “That it is.”

When the burgers arrive there’s a silence that falls over them as they eat. They’re good and Yuri’s mouth is watering before he even takes a bite. Yuri can’t decide if he should keep his eyes on the table or on Otabek so they flick back and forth between the two. He’s a little… shy, now that he thinks about it. It was one thing in the park but here, it’s kind of intimate with how alone they are. Yuri finds that there’s a lot he should be thinking about. Maybe this is just a one-time thing though he really doesn’t want it to be. He wants to see Otabek again tomorrow and the night after that; again and again and again.

He doesn’t worry himself too much about it, not then. The food is nice and he’s tipsy and Otabek is reaching out to tangle their fingers together for a quick moment as they eat.

Yuri’s heart is about to burst and explode into fireworks. He wants to kiss him again, even with their lips greasy and a small spot of cheese at the corner of his mouth Yuri wants to lean over the booth and kiss him stupid but he just can’t bring himself to make the first move.

So he waits.

He sees the way Otabek looks at him, even for someone who has no experience with these sorts of things it’s not hard to tell that he wants Yuri, too.

“I saw that you were limping earlier, are you okay?”

Yuri nods. “Just hurt myself a little.”

“Doing what?” Otabek leans back against the seat, looking at Yuri quizzically.

“Dancing.”

“You dance?”

“Uh-huh.” _That’s all I do._

“But you’re fine now?”

The empty plates sit in front of them, pushed to the middle of the table. Yuri’s stomach rolls but he can’t tell if it’s from nerves or because the alcohol hasn’t mixed well with all the food he’s just eaten.

“I’m fine.”

They sit around for a long while, just talking about themselves, what they do. Yuri’s never thought about just how boring he is until Otabek asks him what he likes to do for fun and his mind comes up blank. Fun? He didn’t even think that was something he could have anymore. He doesn’t even know what time it is anymore, he hasn’t checked in a long, long while and even though he has practice in the morning he finds that he doesn’t care.

With Otabek right there in front of him, goofy and laughing, smile soft and eyes even softer, it’s hard to even think about worrying about anything.

Yuri doesn’t want to leave but they do eventually, after Otabek pays and there’s nothing else to say, at least not for the rest of that night. They leave with Yuri pressed closed to Otabek’s side, his arm around the smaller boy. Yuri feels content until he gets outside and throws up the contents of his stomach all over his shoes. Otabek holds his hair back with one hand and pats his back with the other, whispering reassurances in his air. He waits patiently for Yuri to finish and then he guides him over to the bike.

“Let’s get you home,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to Yuri’s forehead. Yuri feels disgusting with chunks of half-digested food still swimming in his mouth. “Tell me your address.”

Yuri does and Otabek finds his way there without a hitch, navigating the empty streets expertly. When Yuri is standing in front of his apartment building on shaky legs he thinks the night is over, that it has finally dwindled down to the end and this was it but when he asks Otabek to come inside in a whim of the moment kind of thing and the other agrees, Yuri almost sighs in relief.

Otabek holds his hand the entire way up. Yuri’s stomach is still rolling, tight and heavy but he doesn’t throw up again and that’s a good sign.  

He leads Otabek into his apartment and leaves him in the living room while he goes to brush his teeth and change his clothes. It’s refreshing to put on a pair of shorts instead of those jeans he had on earlier. He doesn’t take a shower, too scared that he’ll fall asleep right there under the hot rush of water.

“I thought I’d dreamed you up,” he says once he goes back to the living room. Otabek turns to look at him, hair pushed back away from his forehead and smiles.

“I could say the same about you.”

As Yuri moves towards Otabek he knows what comes next. He’s seen the movies, read the books. He tries to look as appealing as possible as he straddles Otabek’s lap but their foreheads bump together harshly and he huffs. “Sorry.”

“What’re you doing?”

“Uhm-“ Yuri places a kiss on the corner of Otabek’s mouth. “Trying to be sexy?”

Otabek laughs, actually _laughs,_ as if Yuri isn’t currently on his lap grinding down on him and embarrassed as all hell. “Yuri…” He smooths down Yuri’s hair with the palm of his hand. “You’re drunk. Let’s just get you into bed.”

“I’m pretty sober, actually,” Yuri slurs, resting his head on Otabek’s shoulder as the other man stands and Yuri wraps his legs around his waist so he doesn’t fall. There’s one hand on his ass to keep him supported and another at his side, rubbing soothing circled into the exposed skin there.

“Sure. I’m assuming your room is the door other than the bathroom.”

“You’re smart,” Yuri says. “I like you.”

“Me too,” Otabek whispers, laying Yuri out on his bed over the blankets neatly made. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Despite the haze Yuri finds his instincts fast enough to grab on to Otabek’s wrist and stop him from leaving. “Stay,” he pleads and kind of hates how small his voice sounds. Otabek looks down at him for a long moment, chewing on his lip and thinking his answer over.

And over and over.

“Yuri-“

“Just sleep. I just want to sleep. C’mon, Otabek stay with me.”

Finally, Otabek nods, moving to sit at the edge of the bed as he takes off his shoes but leaves his jeans on.

Yuri makes room for him on the small bed and under the blankets. It’s warm and comfortable. He places a kiss on Otabek’s chest and then lay’s his head over the spot, listening to the lazy beat of his hard. That’s the sound he falls asleep to, that _thump, thump_ right against his ear like a lullaby.

-

The light in Yuri’s room is _blinding._ He’s never been up this late and never with someone else in his bed. He looks over and though the night before is hazy he remembers _him._ He remembers Otabek and every little thing they did and said. Every touch, every word.

Yuri groans as he stands. He feels disgusting, sweaty and gross and though he’d brushed his teeth there’s still the bitter, acrid aftertaste of vomit in his mouth.

Otabek looks so calm as he sleeps, his lips parted slightly as he breathes deeply and calmly. His hair is splayed out on the pillow and his eyebrows are scrunched up. Yuri wonders what he’s dreaming about but doesn’t ponder on it too much

He doesn’t know what happens after this, if Otabek leaves or if he stays. Maybe Yuri will never see him again.

Maybe.

He doesn’t know so to keep his mind occupied he starts making breakfast. Two cups of coffee instead of one, four eggs instead of two and all the bacon he has left. He doesn’t know what Otabek likes, if he even has breakfast in the mornings but this looks good and Yuri thinks that anyone would eat this, if not out of hunger then out of courtesy.

He looks at the time and it’s eleven, almost eleven thirty. Practice starts in a half hour and it seems like today will be the first time in years that he’ll be arriving at the same time as everyone else, if not later.

Yuri yelps and almost spills hot grease all over himself when a set of warm hands suddenly appear at his hips.

“Sorry,” comes that voice, deep and groggy in the mornings. “Good morning.”

“G-good morning.”

It’s different now that he’s sober, he’s not as forward, not as relaxed, not as used to all of this as the alcohol made him feel like he was.

“How much do you remember from last night?” Otabek’s breath is right there on his neck, hot breath ghosting over Yuri’s already heated skin.

“I remember you.”

“Really?” Otabek says, resting his chin on top of Yuri’s head. “You were so wasted I thought you’d forget everything.”

Yuri scoffs, moving the bacon from the pan on to a plate while Otabek clings to him. “Yuuko thought so, too,” he says. “Guess I have a better memory than I thought.”

“Yuuko?”

“She was the girl I was with last night.”

“Right.” They move the plates to the table, or at least Yuri does as Otabek clings to him. “Is she your sister or…?”

Yuri shrugs. “Could be. We’re just really close friends.”

Otabek sighs, his hands moving steadily up Yuri’s sides. “You do ballet.”

“I do, as I told you last night.”

“I saw the awards and pictures. You’re good.” Yuri closes his eyes for a moment, chewing on his lip as he braces himself on the table. “You’re flexible, too.” Yuri nods, unable to handle the way Otabek’s hands trail down his sides and done to his thigh. “Show me.”

Yuri closes his eyes. He knows what Otabek wants, can tell by the way he wraps his hand around his thigh and squeezes. He takes deep steadying breaths the higher he moves his leg. Higher and higher, relaxing his muscles in the way he was taught at the very beginning and has never been allowed to forget. He’s braced against the table, his leg held straight and up high and Otabek holds his thigh, rubbing at the skin, moving from the back of Yuri’s knee all the way down until he’s nearly touching his ass. Yuri can feel Otabek’s bulged pressed up right against his ass. He’s grinding down, his breaths coming hot and quick. Otabek presses his lips to the back of Yuri’s neck, nipping at the skin.

Yuri feels himself getting hard, the heat in his gut pooling and expanding over his body. A few more moments and he’d let Otabek bend him over the table and fuck him stupid.

“Bek,” Yuri whispers, reaching back to tangle his fingers in those dark strands of hair. The parallel from the last night isn’t lost but right now, in his kitchen with a still steaming pile of bacon and hot coffee in front of them, it’s more intimate. “Otabek I have to leave soon.”

Yuri’s muscles are starting to ache so he drops his leg, pressing back against Otabek as best as he can. He needs to go but if it were up to him he’d stay right there all day.

They stay like that for a few more moments until Otabek lets go and moves to sit at the table. He prepares his coffee how he likes it and Yuri watches a little stunned as he pours all of that sweetener in there until it’s practically spilling over the rim of the cup.

Breakfast is a fairly quiet affair. They talk about this or that, everything they didn’t touch on or don’t remember from the previous night. With dirty dishes in the sink and a long day ahead of him, Yuri watches Otabek put on his shoes and leave but he lingers on the doorway.

“Hey, this-“ he turns, his eyes on Yuri’s face strangely serious. “This isn’t the last time, right? I can see you again?”

Yuri hesitates for a moment but then he’s leaning up on the tips of his toes and placing a kiss over Otabek’s lips. The other barely has time to react before Yuri is already pulling away. “Yeah, of course you can see me again.”

He waits for Otabek to disappear down the stairs before he’s closing the door. When he looks in the mirror his cheeks are flaming red and his pupils are so dilated he can barely see the color.

Quickly, he does the dishes and gets dressed before heading down to the studio. For the first time in a long, long time, Yuri Plisetsky is late for practice.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk what color parking tickets actually are
> 
> also
> 
> i don't know anything about ballet so if somethings wrong don't point it out bc i don't care

It’s Sunday and they’re in the midst of a heatwave. Yuri’s shitty air conditioner is broken again and the landlord is too damn cheap to fix it so he has all of the fans he has available out on the living room, turned up to max but still his bare torso is dotted with sweat. It’d help if he’d just get off of Otabek’s lap but that probably wasn’t going to happen any time soon. They were kissing slowly, gently, lazily, enjoying the sensation of the other’s lips.

It was that kind of day.

Yuri hadn’t known what to make out of any of this, if Otabek would come back like he’d asked if he could or if this was just a one-time thing, bound to never happen again. But he’d shown up, jeans and t-shirt and scuffed up shoes, very much real and not at all like the dream that Yuri had convinced himself he was.

It was- it was something.

Yuri had left the door wide open both metaphorically and not, allowing Otabek into his life without so much as a struggle or protest or a glance back. There were no what if’s, just _this_ \- this thing that they’d found in each other so suddenly.

“Slow down, lover boy,” Otabek says, hints of rough, deep laughter in his voice. Yuri grins against his lips, not sure what to do next but finding Otabek’s hands in the space between them. The tangles their fingers together and finds that they fit just right.

“Can’t,” Yuri says right back, moving to place kisses against Otabek’s jawline. It’s hot, so hot, their hair sticking to their foreheads with sweat and Yuri thinks he’ll die of heatstroke pretty soon but still he doesn’t stop, doesn’t _want_ to stop. It’s exhilarating, amazing, fantastic and whatever other words there were to describe a moment like this. “Want you so bad, Beka.”

Otabek lets go of one of Yuri’s hands to brush a strand of long blond hair behind his ear, a habit he’s gotten himself into in the days they’ve spent together. (Which weren’t really a lot in the first place but they were enough for Yuri to know that Otabek was twenty-one with a swanky apartment downtown that was definitely not worth the rent and a shitty manager job at a nearby grocery store that helps pay the bills when the gigs his band picks up here and there don’t. It’s not a lot but he thinks he’s done pretty good so far.)

“I’m right here.” Otabek likes to tease. That’s his thing, apparently. That grin of his is infuriating in the best of ways. “You look pretty sitting on my lap, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Yuri says with a shrug, trying to pretend that the words don’t fluster him, like they don’t turn him on and burn right through him. “I look pretty everywhere I go.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Now Otabek is tugging at his hair, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to feel. There’s a moment of silence that passes between them, so soft, so quiet, that Yuri is sure Otabek can feel the incessant, wild beating of his heart. There’s stubble growing along Otabek’s jawline, dark like the hair on top of his head and it looks kind of nice but he always shaves it before it can get too dark, too long.

“Beka,” Yuri sighs, shattering the moment just so. He swears his face has caught on fire when Otabek brings their clasped hands up to his lips and places kisses on each of Yuri’s knuckles. Yuri pulls away from it, doesn’t know what to do with the tenderness because he’s never allowed himself to feel any of this and it’s all so new; the heat under his skin, the way his voice shakes.

“Let’s go out,” he says almost impulsively in an attempt to change the mood that’s settled in the room.

“On a date?” Otabek asks.

“Let’s go to the beach.” Yuri’s already standing, grabbing for his shirt. He’s fine like this, loose tank and shorts too short for anything other than a suffocating heatwave.

Otabek hums and stands, too, moved by Yuri’s sudden excitement. “The beach sounds good. Can we get smoothies first, though?”

“Smoothies?”

“Yeah, I know a place-“ Otabek doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before Yuri is grabbing his wrist and leading him out, all the way down the stairs and to the front of the building where Otabek’s bike is parked. He almost forgets to lock the door but gets it done somehow. It’s stifling outside, not even the hint of a breeze to ward off the heat. “Why the sudden excitement?” Otabek asks, straddling the bike and passing the helmet over to Yuri. Otabek never actually wears it when they’re together, always passes it to Yuri and the one time he’d asked why the answer he’d gotten was simple.

_Because I told Yuuko I’d keep you safe._

“I haven’t been to the beach in a long, long time,” Yuri answers truthfully, following Otabek’s lead and getting on the bike after him, his arms wrapping around the other’s torso. Otabek starts the bike and the noise is loud and deafening.

Yuri doesn’t know where Otabek is taking them. Just like with the beach he hasn’t had a smoothie in a long time and he’s somewhat unfamiliar with the layout of the city. He knows where the basics are; the bank, the grocery store the movies but certainly not the small hole-in-the-wall place where they end up at, promising the best smoothies around.

Yuri doesn’t know what to get so he lets Otabek order for him. Strawberry and banana smoothies are what’s in this season so that’s what they end up with. It’s not too bad, Yuri thinks as he takes the first sip. It’s cold and sweet, the perfect thing to ward off the heat. Kind of.

They linger around for a while, until it gets to be too hot and Yuri’s smoothie is halfway done.

“Let’s leave the bike,” he says. “We can walk the rest of the way.”

“No,” Otabek says with a frown, already grabbing for his keys. “I’ll get a ticket.”

Yuri rolls his eyes, grabbing Otabek’s keys and stuffing them in his own pocket. “No you won’t. We’ll only be gone a few hours.”

“Yeah, long enough for me to get a ticket.”

There’s about a million things Yuri could do right about now. He could kiss Otabek and pout, grab his wrist and lead him down the street but instead he heads out on his own, straw resting against his lips. “If you get a ticket, I’ll pay for it which isn’t going to happen because you’re not going to get one. C’mon big boy, let’s go to the beach.”

In the end, Otabek has no choice but to follow after him, grumbling the whole time about how he’s going to kick Yuri’s ass if he does get a ticket. Yuri just grins, knowing better.

They’re halfway there, sweat dripping down their skin in the most uncomfortable way possible when Yuri gets an itch under his skin that he can’t quite scratch. They’re walking side by side, their pinkies brushing occasionally and there’s that urge to reach out and hold his hand, link their fingers together but maybe Otabek doesn’t want to do that in public. Maybe he’s the kind of person to keep the hand holding to a minimum.

“Why does your face look like that?” Otabek asks, looking down at Yuri.

Yuri frowns. “What face. _My_ face?”

“Yeah, _your_ face.”

Yuri reaches out and touches his cheek. “What’s wrong with it?”

“You always look like you hate everything when we’re out in public.”

“Well, that’s just the way my face is,” Yuri says, rolling his eyes and picking up his pace so that he’s walking slightly ahead of Otabek. “Stop looking at it if you don’t like it.”

“Hey.” Otabek reaches out and grabs onto Yuri’s arm, drawing him to his side as they walk. “I know it’s your face and it’s a cute face but stop looking so mad.” Otabek’s hand trails down lower, his fingers brushing over Yuri’s palm just the slightest. “Is this-“

“If you ask if this is okay I’ll kick you,” Yuri says, moving so that his hair covers his suddenly red face. Otabek laughs softly, tangling their fingers together right there in the middle of the street where anyone can see but it’s nice, it feels nice. They’re almost there, so close that Yuri can already hear the rush of the waves and the cry of the seagulls.

“It should be packed,” Otabek says. “Especially now with the heat but I know this place… it should be quiet.”

“Take me then,” Yuri says and Otabek does. This promised place is a bit further away, past a spot where it’s more rock than sand and then that evens out into sand again, stark white and seemingly untouched, clear of dirt and pollution. The water is a clear blue and on either side of them are piles of large rocks that block them from view from the other people in the more public parts of the beach. There’s another couple there, sitting on a blanket a little ways off and watching the waves wash up against the shore as they talk to each other in hushed tones. Yuri wonders why they didn’t think to bring a blanket or even towels for that fact but Otabek is already dragging him down beside him on the sand. They’re far away enough from the other couple to only hear the tail end of a high pitched laugh. “How did you find this place?”

“Well, it’s not exactly public,” Otabek says, grinning as if this is the greatest thing ever and with the peace and quiet that surrounds him it might as well be. “There’s this nice ass house behind there-“ he points over his shoulder and Yuri follows, up to where the sand ends and turns into tall palm trees. “This is like their own little stretch of beach. Leo found it-“

“Leo?”

“He’s our guitarist,” Otabek answers. “He dragged us over here and it’s been our thing ever since.”

“Your _thing._ The owners don’t mind?”

“Nah.” Otabek shrugs, reach out for his smoothie, half buried in the sand next to Yuri’s. “I don’t even think they come out here often. What a waste.”

It’s still hot but the soft breeze that blows over them helps with that. Yuri pulls his hair up into a ponytail, not liking the way it sticks to his forehead and neck. He should really, really get it cut but for now, that’s of his least concern. Somehow he’s ended up with Otabek’s head resting on his lap, his eyes droopy and lips curled up into a lazy grin. Yuri doesn’t know how the clothes he’s wearing aren’t bothering him. Those jeans are tight and that t-shirt too dark for this weather but he looks relaxed and content so Yuri doesn’t worry about it too much.

“You know someday I wanna have a house like that. Out by the beach with an amazing view and the smell of the ocean every day.”

“Wouldn’t you get tired of that?” Yuri asks, brushing some of that dark hair back from Otabek’s forehead. “I mean, isn’t that the novelty of it?”

“You think you’d get tired of this?” He motions to the water- so clear and so blue that Yuri can see the small fish swimming at the bottom.

Yuri hums. “Dunno,” he says. “Maybe, maybe not.”

“It’d be one hell of a view, though, right? You just wake up in the mornings and get to see this amazing view, feel the breeze.”

“You’re making me want to stay here forever,” Yuri says, smiling softly down at Otabek.

“Well, that wouldn’t be so bad, right?”

“Maybe not.”

It’s not long before the other couple leaves, hand in hand with the blanket stuffed in a bag they brought along. They’re smiling softly at each other, talking in hushed tones with rosy cheeks and looking at them Yuri realizes that once he’d thought that was something he could never have but sitting there with Otabek- well, he could easily say that things were a bit different now.

Once the two girls are out of sight Yuri stands, letting Otabek’s head fall back against the sand without so much as a warning. He lets out an exaggerated, pained noise and calls Yuri an asshole for it but Yuri doesn’t pay it any mind. Instead he takes off his shirt and lets it fall over Otabek’s face before he’s darting off to the water, hissing at the sudden cold.

“What are you doing?” Otabek calls after him, Yuri’s shirt bunched up in his hands. He’s propped on his elbows, watching Yuri with some kind of interest in his eyes. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Yuri says. He’s waist deep now, his skin getting used to the cold. He can feel Otabek’s eyes heavy on his and that makes him shiver more than the water does.

“I’m not letting you on the bike all wet like that.”

“Sure you won’t.” Yuri bites his lip. He could probably swim out until he’s just a speck in the horizon but he’d rather stay there, chest deep with his back to the oncoming waves, watching Otabek laze around on the sand with hooded eyes.

“Just watch. I’ll make you walk, Yuri Plisetsky!”

Yuri laughs, the sound carrying all the way over to where Otabek is. He can feel the small fish brushing along his legs every now and again. Maybe Otabek was right. He could get used to this, every morning, afternoon and night, the cool breeze, that smell, the birds. Yuri allows himself a moment of peace out in the water. He floats on his back for a while until he finds that he’s gone too far from shore and then he swims back, cooler than he was before but he hates the way the sand sticks to his legs and makes the skin there itch. Without so much as a second thought he drops himself onto Otabek’s lap, ignoring the complaints and the grumbling. The tips of his hair are wet but he finds that when he leans forward Otabek’s lips taste like strawberries and bananas, cool and sweet.

“You’re getting me all wet,” Otabek says, voice low but he’s wrapping his hands around Yuri’s hips anyway and pulling him closer.

“I’ll get off then,” Yuri says but makes no move to do that. Otabek’s kissing over his shoulder, soft and sweet, nipping at the skin and making Yuri whimper just from that. “Beka…” Otabek’s hands are on his back, trailing down to the dip of his spine and that touch along burns more than the sun beating down on them. Yuri wants him to go lower but he stops there, fingertips brushing against that spot where skin meets fabric.

“I like it when you call me that,” Otabek says, voice low and soft. He threads his fingers through Yuri’s hair, pushes it back and away from his face. Yuri registers that he _is_ getting Otabek wet so in his half-dazed mind the only thing he can think of to do is to reach between them and tug Otabek’s t-shirt up, looking into his eyes for confirmation. When he gets that in the form of a soft nod he doesn’t hesitate to pull it all the way off, exposing Otabek’s well defined torso. Yuri splays his hands out on his chest, feeling the hot skin under his touch and groans softly.

“Yeah?” Before Otabek can answer Yuri leans forward, pressing their lips together again, all teeth and tongue. He’s desperate now, wanting to feel Otabek’s hands in more than one spot. “I like it when you touch me.”

“I am,” Otabek says and actually has the gall to grin. And Yuri- well Yuri grinds down, effectively erasing that grin from Otabek’s face. “Yuri-“

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.”

“I’m getting sand in my hair.”

Yuri laughs, a little too loud, a little dizzy and drunk on the moment. “That’s what you’re worried about?” He grinds down again and listens with satisfaction as Otabek’s breath hitches in his throat, his hands inching just that much lower under the hem of Yuri’s shorts, fingertips ghosting under the fabric.

“Yeah. Do you know how hard-“

Yuri bites Otabek’s lower lip, stopping him midsentence. “Just shut up. Just shut up and touch me and I’ll show you hard.”

“Right here? In someone’s backyard?”

“Sure. You said they don’t come out here anyway.”

“You could traumatize some poor old lady.”

“Otabek,” Yuri nearly growls out. “I’d just about let everyone on this beach watch. Just-“ He wraps his fingers around Otabek’s wrist and in a fit of sudden courage drags his hand against the bulge in his shorts, grinds against it hot and insistent like he’s been wanting to for such a long time now. His breath comes out stuttered, soft moans falling from his lips just from that simple touch and maybe now it’s obvious how much of a fucking virgin he is. But Yuri doesn’t care, not when Otabek is watching him with his eyes dark and burning, growing hard right there under Yuri just from this. “Do I still look good on your lap?” Yuri pants, pressing closer, harder. Otabek’s other hand finally slips under his shorts to cup his ass and squeeze the overheated skin and the touch is more than Yuri could’ve expected, more than he could have _wanted_.

“Beautiful,” Otabek says, moving his hand on his own now to grab Yuri’s cock through his shorts, the friction nice but not what Yuri wants, what he _needs._ Otabek leans up, placing kisses along Yuri’s collarbones and across his chest, tasting the salty ocean water that lingers on his skin. Yuri can’t stop gasping, making those soft little noises that fall from his lips so sweetly. “Yuri, baby-“

Yuri lets go of Otabek’s wrist to shove his shorts down, no shame in how eager he is. He almost groans at the feeling of his cock springing free from the restraints of his own clothing but the way Otabek is looking at him- it kind of makes him want to hide, cover himself up.

“Please,” Yuri pleads, hating the way Otabek brings down every one of his defenses, brick by brick. “I need-“

“Shh, I know what you need,” Otabek says softly, his hand wrapping around Yuri’s cock as his mouth latches onto a nipple and it’s too much, too fast all at the same time. Yuri’s so close already, so sensitive, he doesn’t even know what to do with himself except whimper and pull at Otabek’s hair. “Good?”

Yuri nods, unable to find the words to express how mind-blowing this all is. In the back of his mind, some coherent part of him is aware that anyone could walk up on them and see them like this but the rest of him- well, the rest of him doesn’t really care too much.

He thrusts forward into Otabek’s closed fist, harder and faster the closer he gets to reaching his orgasm. Otabek lets him chase his pleasure, gripping Yuri’s ass hard enough to leave light bruises and grazing his teeth across the sensitive bud of a nipple.

“Good. Good, please.”

“You can come, Yuri,” Otabek says, the words scorching against Yuri’s skin. “Whenever you want to, you can come.”

It takes a few more slick thrusts into Otabek’s fist for Yuri to do just that, come spilling hot into Otabek’s hand. Yuri cries out harshly, shaking his way through the first orgasm he’s allowed himself to have in such a long time. Otabek helps him through it, pumping Yuri’s cock until the younger boy is whimpering from overstimulation.

Yuri slumps against Otabek once he’s all spent, burying his face in that space between neck and shoulder where he’s fallen asleep a few nights before. They’re both panting hard and fast and Yuri can feel the wild beating of Otabek’s heart like his own as the other gently tucks his cock back into his shorts.

It takes them a while to catch their breath, a while for Yuri to feel the hard bulge pressing against his hip and then he’s sitting up, trying to undo the button of Otabek’s jeans but his hands are still shaking from his orgasm.  

“Hey, you don’t have to,” Otabek says, placing his hand over Yuri’s smaller ones to stop him. His eyes are sincere but Yuri knows where he wants to take this.

“I know.” Yuri leans forward and kisses him, hot and opened mouth. “But I want to.”

There’s a moment of silence until Otabek concedes, sinking back into the sand and watching Yuri work the button and zipper down until his cock is free of its restraints and resting against his stomach.

Yuri hesitates only for a moment before he’s wrapping his hand around Otabek’s hard cock, hot and heavy in his hand. “Show me,” he says, pumping slowly. Otabek smiles lazily, wrapping the hand that isn’t covered in Yuri’s come around Yuri’s hand and helping him pump his cock slowly, flicking his wrist at the base in a way that he seems to like.

He likes it slow, apparently, only speeding up the closer he gets, his hips bucking up into Yuri’s fist every now and again and for a moment Yuri wonders what it’d feel like to have that cock in his mouth.

“Just like that,” Otabek pants, voice rougher than Yuri’s ever heard it.

“Are you close?” Yuri asks, free hand braced on Otabek’s chest to stop himself from completely slumping forward. “Are you gonna come for me?”

“Yuri, _god-“_

He moves Yuri’s hand faster, squeezes harder, his hips unsteady and losing rhythm as he bucks up again and again until he’s coming, too, all over Yuri’s hand. Yuri catches most of it, prevents it from dripping onto Otabek’s jeans and staining the fabric.

“I’m not God,” Yuri says, slumping forward. “Just Yuri’s fine.”

“Ha ha,” Otabek says dryly, rolling his eyes but his cheeks are warm and a light shade of pink. “You’re so funny.”

Yuri hums, placing a kiss over the racing pulse in Otabek’s neck. That might have just been the best thing they’ve done yet and anything better than that he might just die of a heart attack. “I’m thirsty.”

“Smoothies are all gross now,” Otabek says, reaching for their cups and making a gross face at the sludge inside.

“Figured they wouldn’t last that long in this heat.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I will either,” Otabek says but he’s grabbing at Yuri’s ass with his free hand and dragging him closer still, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “That was nice.”

“I know.” It’s unlike Yuri to be shy but it’s also unlike him to jerk a guy off on some fancy, rich lady’s beach backyard where anyone could see. It’s a different time now for Yuri. “Let’s do it again soon.”

Otabek does laugh this time, soft and genuine. “You’re insatiable. Maybe, but let’s get you home first.”

It takes them a while, between the breeze and the lazy atmosphere that’s settled around them Yuri thinks he could fall asleep right there on the sand, laid out on top of Otabek like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

They do leave eventually, once the sun has started to sink lower into the horizon and they know it’ll get dark soon. Yuri reaches out blindly and wipes the dried come on the closest shirt he can find which is apparently Otabek’s if the swat to the back of his head is anything to go by.

“Asshole,” Otabek says but wipes his hand on the shirt too because it’s already ruined anyway so he might as well. Yuri slips his tank back on but Otabek leaves his shirt off, thrown over his shoulder as they walk back the way they came from, hand in hand. The beach is mostly empty now, only a few stragglers left here and there. Yuri’s legs feel like jelly as they make their way back, knees weak as he stumbles through the sand. “You okay?” Otabek asks, looking down at Yuri with concern.

“That orgasm was really, really good,” Yuri says, half-dazed, wide eyes set on the ground. Otabek presses his laugh into Yuri’s mussed hair, squeezing his hand gently.

“I know. Want me to carry you?”

“’M fine,” Yuri mutters. Sand turns to sidewalk and Yuri’s legs feel a lot better, a lot more solid. He still clings to Otabek though, mostly because he can and also because there’s a lot of people out here, packed into the restaurants and clubs that surround the beach and Yuri doesn’t like the way some of those people look at Otabek.

They’re mostly quiet the entire walk back, watching the sights and the people, all of these places Yuri’s never even been to before.

“I should bring you out to eat someday,” Otabek says, leading the way back. “To one of these fancy shmancy restaurants.”

“I’m fine with mac ‘n’ cheese,” Yuri says with a roll of his eyes though the idea sounds fun like a super fancy date with ice cream later.

They talk about this and that as they head back to the bike. They’re close but Yuri feels like asking Otabek to carry him anyway. A piggyback ride wouldn’t be so bad right about now but the bike is right _there._ Yuri’s reaching for the helmet already, about to slip it on but Otabek’s hand on his arm is stopping him. Yuri registers the angry look first, Otabek’s eyebrows drawn together and his lips set on a firm line. Then, he registers the dull yellow slip of paper in his hand and Yuri’s lips form an _O_ shape.

“Yuri _fucking_ Plisetsky!”

-

A few days turns into a few weeks when Phichit corners him one day during practice, shit eating grin on his face and Minami right at his heels. Yuri can already feel what’s coming like some sort of bad omen and his stomach twists nervously.

“So who is it?”

Yuri turns away from him, working on his stretching. Lately they’ve been working on pointe technique and Yuri’s feet are shredded, the muscles of his legs burning with ever step he takes.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Yuri answers, turning to his reflection in the mirror as he straightens out his leg, toe pointed. But he does, he does know and so does Phichit. Actually, every person in there just about knows and though maybe they don’t know exactly _what,_ they know that something’s up with Yuri.

“Oh, who is this that’s replaced my small, bitter Yuri?” Phichit’s always been better at reading people than most so it comes as no surprise to Yuri when he’s the first one to ask. It’s irritating but definitely not surprising. “Could it be that you’re in love?”

Yuri makes a gagging noise in the back of his throat. In the mirror in front of him he can see Yuuko watching him from across the room, a large grin on her face almost as bad as Phichit’s. Yuri frowns. Apparently he can’t trust anyone in this damn place. “Dunno what that is. Want nothing to do with it.”

“C’mon, _please?”_ Minami pleads as if Yuri’s personal life is the most interesting thing in the world. He leans in close, as if he’s about to tell a huge secret. “There’s a rumor going around that you’re actually leaving at the same time as everyone else, is it true?”

“Fuck off.”

“The bags under your eyes are gone and it’s like… you’re actually eating?”

It’s true. Otabek had made sure to keep Yuri well fed in the time they’d spent together, taking him out here and there or even cooking for him. It was nice having someone there to do it for him when he was too tired from practice and the only thing he could think to do was lay down and sleep. And he’d been getting a lot of sleep, too, curled up in Otabek’s arms after late nights watching terrible movies and the like.

Yuri takes a moment to look at himself in the mirror. The bags _are_ gone and his cheeks are fuller, actually a rosy tint and he just seems to be _glowing._

“Maybe I’m just taking better care of myself,” is Yuri’s answer.

“Oh, since when?”

Yuri grinds his teeth, annoyed. Lilia eventually calls them out on it, ordering them to leave Yuri alone and get to practicing but not before they ask him a million more questions that he refuses to answer. He breathes a sigh of relief, finally alone and at peace. The day goes on like this, with soft, classical music playing in the background and Yuri’s muscles working overtime. It’s not until the end of the day that Lilia walks up to him.

“Yuri, what’s going on?” She asks. Her face is severe, Yuri knows that but he also knows that she’s not angry, just asking a simple question.

“What’s going on with what?” Yuri wipes the sweat from his forehead and pushes his hair back. He’d thought he was doing pretty good but she motions down to his legs. Yuri looks down. They look fine; no bruises or cuts or breaks.

“I’ve been watching you and I’m worried. The arches of your feet- they’re wrong. You’re not pointing your feet enough and it’s like this is your first time doing any of this.”

The criticism hits Yuri hard. He’s always been pretty good at handling these kinds of things but now- Lilia has never had to tell him any of this. Yuri’s always worked harder than the rest so he could be better than all of them but for her to tell him that he’d been doing it all wrong was devastating.

“I’m- I’m sorry,” Yuri whispers, voice shaking.

Lilia’s hand lands on his shoulder. “It’s alright, Yuri. We can work on it more tomorrow. Go home and get some rest.”

But Yuri doesn’t.

He sticks around, spends most of the night on the floor, arching his feet and trying to get it just right. He knows Lilia hadn’t meant it in a bad way, she’d simply pointed out something that he was doing wrong so he could fix it later but the words had cut right through him and now they wouldn’t stop swimming around in his head.

Yuri doesn’t know how long he’s there, working his muscles, stretching his legs, that classical music playing in the background. It’s all just white noise now, going on an incessant loop as Yuri loses track of time.

It's like he’s in a trance, only shaken out of it when the door to the studio opens slowly, quietly. He sees Otabek reflected in the mirrors, worried frown on his face. It’s like a punch to the gut, a breath of fresh air all at the same time.

“Beka,” Yuri says, surprised to find him there. He looks… out of place. Not in a bad way but he just stands out in the bright, open space. “You’re- how did you find me?”

Otabek holds up his phone. “You weren’t answering my calls. I figured this is where you’d be.”

“Oh.” Yuri stays seated on the floor, watching Otabek take hesitant step after hesitant step towards him. He’s wearing all black again, he always is and seeing his face is like a welcome relief.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?”

Yuri nods. He allows Otabek to kneel down next to him and untie the laces of his shoes. He does it with finesse and tenderness, soft and slow as if he knows how much Yuri’s legs are hurting now. He takes the shoes off and places them next to Yuri, helps him stand and take his ballet clothes off before helping him step into his street clothes. It’s a slow process, Yuri clinging to Otabek the whole time or else he’ll collapse but at the same he pretends he’s fine.

“You tired?” Otabek asks, Yuri’s back slung across his shoulder as they make their way out to his bike. “It’s been a while since you’ve stayed so late.”

“I just wanted to practice a li’l bit,” Yuri says, slumping against Otabek once they’re both on the bike. He could fall asleep right there.

But he doesn’t. They make it to his apartment and Otabek helps him up the stairs and all the way to the living room where he sets Yuri down on one of the couches and goes to draw him a bath. Everything moves in slow motion and Yuri swears the ticking of the clock is louder than it’s ever been.

He’s half asleep when Otabek gets back to him, hand soft in his hair like it always is.

“Hey, bath’s ready.”

“Jus’ let me sleep here,” Yuri mumbles.

“C’mon, baby. I’ll wash your hair for you.”

That peaks Yuri’s interest and it’s not long before he’s sitting up, grabbing onto Otabek as they head into the bathroom. Suddenly, a bath doesn’t seem so bad and the water is warm to the touch. Yuri let’s Otabek undress him slowly, hands lingering on his skin too long and eyes trailing.

“Get in with me,” Yuri says quietly, fingers wrapping around Otabek’s wrist and tugging for emphasis. Otabek nods, working to take his clothes off as quickly as possible. Yuri has to look away, too embarrassed to watch Otabek take his clothes off.

Yuri’s gotten better with the intimacy the longer that their time together has dragged on. When Otabek slips into the tub behind him, naked and solid and warm, Yuri finds it easier to sink into his arms this time than last.

“You don’t have to overwork yourself to be the best,” Otabek says, washing Yuri’s hair just like he’d promised, fingers gentle as they massage shampoo into Yuri’s scalp. Yuri just hums, not wanting to talk about this now but Otabek doesn’t seem to take the hint. “I know you’re good, everyone does, Yuri.”

“Beka, please.”

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“I know what I’m doing.” Yuri’s hands land on Otabek’s knees, resting just above the water. He draws lazy circle into the skin, closing his eyes. “I know-“

“Okay,” Otabek says quietly, placing a kiss over Yuri’s shoulder. “Okay, I believe you.” He doesn’t mention it after that.

They stay in the bath until the water goes cold. Otabek helps dry Yuri off and put his clothes on. Yuri lets him, feeling a little weak and useless but the attention is nice. They both fall into bed together, suddenly and ungracefully but the warmth that seeps into Yuri’s bones as he settles into Otabek’s arms is what helps him fall asleep.

When Yuri wakes up again with the sun shining in his face he realizes that it’s Saturday and he doesn’t really have to be anywhere or do anything. He’s alone in bed but the smell of food that comes from the kitchen confirms that Otabek is still there. They have this sort of unspoken rule that whoever gets up first has to make breakfast and lately, Otabek has been the first one up each morning.

Today is a bacon and pancakes type of day, it seems and the food is already all laid out on the table as Yuri stumbles out of his room. Otabek greets him with a soft good morning, a kiss and a squeeze of his hips. It’s early, only seven but they’re both early risers for some reason so it works out.

They eat quietly, their knees brushing under the table. When they’re done, since Otabek was the one that cooked Yuri does the dishes, distracted every now and again when Otabek decides to be an asshole and kiss his neck or tickle his sides.

“What are you doing today?” Yuri asks eventually once he’s done, leaning back against the counter and watching Otabek pour himself another glass of orange juice.

“Band practice. Wanna come with me?”   

“Sure,” Yuri says without hesitation. He’s listened to Otabek’s music, sure but he’s never gone to his band practices, never met any of the other guys except for Seung-gil that first night very briefly and even then they hadn’t talked at all.

“If you’re not busy, of course.”

“Me? Busy on a Saturday?”

Otabek laughs, pressing himself close. They end up showering together because it’s early in the morning and the sunlight is soft, and Lilia’s words from the previous night have left his head, replaced be Otabek’s soft murmuring. They haven’t done anything sexual since that day at the beach but having Otabek so close is enough to get Yuri by, skin burning nonetheless with the intimacy.

They practice in JJ’s house, apparently, a pretty long ways off from Yuri’s apartment. He’s the only one of them with a house, his parents rich enough for him to be able to afford one right after college and it comes with a pretty nice, spacey garage to match.

When Yuri gets there, half-hidden behind Otabek all the other men can do is stare for a moment as if they hadn’t been expecting him. They don’t look mad or anything like that, just surprised which is a relief because Yuri had been filled with some insecurities on his way over here.

“Otabek,” JJ says, grinning. Yuri recognizes him because he’s the most arrogant one, the most tattooed. “You’ve gotten yourself a cute little kitten.”

“Fuck off,” Otabek growls out. “Behave yourself for once.”

Introductions go around without much incident. Yuri finds that he likes Seung-gil the most out of Otabek’s group of friends. He’s quiet and it’s easier to get along with quiet people. He also has that _face,_ the one that Otabek always tells Yuri about. The one that makes it seem like he hates everyone and everything.

There’s a couch pushed up against the far wall, old and well-loved and that’s where Otabek has him sit as they practice their new songs. Yuri’s attention is drawn between his phone and Otabek the whole time. He’d been right about one thing that first night: Otabek does put his whole being into his drumming, keeping the beat consistently and thoroughly. His biceps flexing and his forehead dots with sweat. The songs are good but Yuri doesn’t expect anything less from them.

The day passes like this, sweet and easy with breaks every now and then. Otabek comes to sit with him when he can, propping Yuri’s legs up on his lap and massaging the muscles of his calves as if he knows how much they hurt. Yuri gives him an appreciative little smile that no one else seems to catch.

They go to eat after and they invite Yuri, who seems to fit in so well he might as well have been a part of their group this whole time. He likes Leo, too, finding that JJ is the only insufferable one in their group but the rest like him well enough anyway so he puts up with the teasing just for the sake of it.

“I think they liked you,” Otabek informs him later, parked out in front of Yuri’s building. They’d spent the entire day with Otabek’s friends, making and listening to music, talking about this or that and when Yuri had talked about ballet because they’d asked the interest in their faces was genuine. Having friends was nice, new friends not just Phichit and Minami and Yuuko. 

“Sure,” Yuri says, reaching down for his keys. “I’m a very likeable person.”

Otabek snorts.

“What, you don’t think so?”

“I think… you’re a very beautiful person.”

“But not kind?”

“Not to other people, no.”

Yuri takes a step forward, planting himself between Otabek’s spread legs. He’s leaning against his bike, as casual as Yuri’s ever seen him. “But I’m kind to you?”

“Very.” Otabek doesn’t reach out to touch him as Yuri had expected but instead he keeps his hands braced against the leather seat of his bike.

“I thought I was doing pretty well with your friends.”

“I’m pretty sure you threatened to kill JJ at one point.”

Yuri huffs. “He kept calling me _kitten._ ”

“And you don’t like that? Being called kitten?” Otabek purrs, making Yuri shiver so hard they both feel it. Yuri curses himself quietly. Otabek grins devilishly. “Thought so. Hey, I need to head home now. I’ll see you tomorrow. Yeah, kitten?” Yuri swats at his arm harshly but doesn’t refuse when Otabek leans forward to peck his lips. “But before I go-“

Yuri watches in confused silence as Otabek reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper.

“We have this show coming up in a few weeks and uh-“ He passes the paper over to Yuri and he unfolds it, finding that it’s a flyer for a live show at one of those fancy restaurants for the beach. “I’d really like it if you came.”

“Yeah,” Yuri says, small smile gracing his features and lighting up his face. “I’ll definitely go, Otabek.”

-

Yuri overworks himself because he has to be the best.

When Victor left in his absence remained his legacy. The trophies, the medals, the prizes, the costumes. He left everything and it was up to Yuri to pick up the pieces, take up where Victor left off and continue that legacy.

It seems that no matter how much he tries he just can’t seem to get anything right. The position of his hands, his legs, his feet. He twists his ankle one time in the middle of practice and just gets up and continues, trying to be perfect as if that could ward off Lilia’s criticism.

But Otabek had been right about one thing. He doesn’t need to overwork himself to get to where he wants to be. It’d taken a while, late nights and missed phone calls, Otabek showing up at the studio late at night to drag him home for him to see that.

 _Everything happens in moderation,_ Otabek tells him, late into the night as he massages lotion into Yuri’s overworked muscles. _You don’t have to overwork yourself._

Maybe he’s right.

The day of Otabek’s show at that restaurant Yuri forgets about it. He’s staying late again and it’s not until he’s taking a break that he sees the piece of paper poking out of his bag.

Yuri’s stomach sinks.

He rushes over to it and finds that the shows only started about a half-hour ago. He breathes a sigh of relief as he changes his clothes and grabs his bag and the keys. It’ll take him another half-hour to get over there and how knows how long they’ll be there but Yuri is determined to make it even if it means missing most of it. He can’t let Otabek down like this.

Yuri runs most of the way, not even thinking of calling for a cab but it’s not too far anyway. He reaches the place fairly quickly, panting and out of breath but he’s there and he can hear the music, muffled but that’s definitely JJ’s husky voice that he hears.

Yuri slips inside quietly. It’s dark and smoky, the smell of alcohol filling the air and he feels kind of dizzy. No one says anything when he takes a seat at the bar and the bartender is nice enough to get him a non-alcoholic piña colada when he asks for it.

He spots Otabek in the dimness with his drumsticks in hand, keeping a sultry beat that seems to resonate inside the place. They’re keeping it sweet and slow, keeping to the atmosphere that’s already been set up for them.

Otabek keeps looking around the place, eyes searching for someone in the crowd and frowning when he can’t seem to find them. Yuri grins, knowing that it’s him that Otabek is looking for.

The set drags on like this for the most of the time. Yuri feels drowsy, like he’s about to fall asleep right there on that bar but then he meets Otabek’s eyes from across the room and everything’s fine again. Everyone else in the restaurant seems as enraptured with the four men in front of them as everyone else and Yuri can’t blame them.

When it ends Leo is the first to reach him. His smile is wide and his hair is tussled and he looks as happy as the rest of them.

“It was good, right?” Leo asks, taking the now empty seat next to Yuri and ordering a drink with the raunchiest name available.

“Yeah,” Yuri answers, watching Otabek and the rest of the band move towards them. “It was-“

“Amazing. Like always.” That’s JJ now, arrogant as always. Seung-gil greets Yuri with nothing more than a soft smile and Otabek’s greeting comes with a soft kiss on the shoulder. “Hey, Otabek, how about you buy shots for us?”

“Can’t,” Otabek says, wrapping an arm around Yuri’s waist like he’s about to lift him off his seat. “I’m taking Yuri home.”

“C’mon, Beka,” Yuri says quietly and the others coo at the name. “We can stay.”

“Yeah, _Beka,”_ Leo mocks and Yuri could roll his eyes and die of embarrassment right at that moment. “Stay and buy us drinks.”

But Otabek is adamant. “Maybe next time,” he says, before leading Yuri out, arms wrapped around him.

“You could’ve stayed,” Yuri says, voice low. They reach the bike and Otabek is tilting Yuri’s face up with a finger under his chin.

“You were late,” he says, placing kisses over his cheek and along his jaw.

“I’m sorry.” Yuri’s fingers wrap around Otabek’s wrist, to keep him in place or maybe pull him closer. “I’m sorry, Beka.”

“I’m not mad,” Otabek reminds him. “You always practice so late. I’m just glad you could make it.”

Vaguely, Yuri registers that they’re standing in the middle of a busy sidewalk with people milling about. It’s nearing one in the mornings but it’s like the entire city is there, in that space.

“For you.” Yuri stands on the tips of his toes, willing Otabek to understand that he wants his lips kissed, too. “I made it for you.”

Otabek kisses that spot under his jaw that makes him shiver so sweetly.

“Let’s get you home.”

It’s like this unspoken agreement between them. Otabek says let’s go and Yuri goes. Otabek says jump and Yuri asks, _how high?_ If Yuri had to trust one person it’d be Otabek. Forever, for the rest of this life and the next or whatever it is that comes after.

They’re mostly quiet.

Otabek lays Yuri out on the bed and grabs the lotion that’s found a permanent home on the nightstand. He has nice hands, strong fingers and the way he massages the lotion into Yuri’s legs is a testament to that. It’s intimate, sensual, _soft_ like the music Otabek plays on those smoky bars and shitty venues. He’s kneeling on the bed besides Yuri, hands trailing higher up his thighs but not high enough. Yuri’s found himself in this position before, knowing what he wants but not getting it fast enough.

He threads his fingers through Otabek’s hair, massaging his scalp, sometimes catching on some of the knots. He can’t seem to find the right words, the correct way to tell Otabek how easily he’d surrender to him right now.

So instead Yuri kisses him, drags his head down and connects their lips hotter than what they’ve had before.

“Yuri-“

“Make love to me.” He pushes Otabek back and straddles his hips, waits for any hesitation but doesn’t find any. “Beka.”

Otabek’s hands are on his hips, over his ass and down his thighs. Yuri lets himself melt into the touch, let’s Otabek take his time.

“Are you sure?”

He’s always asking that, always making sure that Yuri is enjoying himself too but for now Yuri wants less talking and more doing so instead of answering he begins undoing the button of Otabek’s jeans while kissing at his neck.

“Make love to me,” Yuri says again, voice so sure it barely wavers.

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Of you? Never?”

“You don’t even have lube or condoms.” He grins as if somehow he’s gained the upper hand of the situation but Yuri is nothing if not prepared.

“Nightstand. First drawer.”

Otabek frowns and reaches back. Sure enough, the items are there just as promised. “How- When did you get these?”

And now Yuri’s movements finally do stutter to a halt and his face feels like it’s on fire. “That day after the beach-“

Otabek pops open the bottle of lube. “It’s used.”

Yuri lets himself fall forward, burying his face in Otabek’s chest. He feels Otabek’s groan more than he hears it.

“Please don’t tell me you’ve been fingering yourself.”

Somehow, Yuri finds it in himself to nod, answering with a meek, “I just wanted to know what it’d feel like.”

Again, Otabek groans but then he’s kissing Yuri, tugging at his clothes until they’re off and Yuri’s naked on top of him, all pale skin and golden hair. Otabek takes a moment to admire him despite Yuri’s sudden bashfulness. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“So will you, if you don’t take your clothes off, too.”

Otabek complies because he’s always been a little weak for Yuri, anyway and it’s not hard to do what he asks. They’re pressed skin to skin when Yuri feels his world go up in fireworks. What they’d done before was good but this was beyond description.

Yuri’s body is compliant, like putty in Otabek’s arms. He spreads his legs, let’s Otabek finger him open, inch by inch.

“You take me so well,” Otabek purrs, kisses along the column of Yuri’s neck and leaves his mark on his collarbones. “You’re doing so well, Yuri.”

Yuri keeps letting out these soft whimpers every time Otabek adds another finger or brushes against his prostate or tells him how good he’s doing. It’s like being torn apart and put back together in the span of seconds.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

But Yuri doesn’t, could never even dream about it. When Otabek deems him sufficiently stretched he leaves him empty for a few seconds before he’s guiding Yuri down on his cock, letting him sink down at his own pace, torturously slow. Yuri clings to him, cries out because he doesn’t know if it’s too much or not enough but still he lets the pleasure wash over him in waves.

“Good?”

Yuri nods desperately, whimpers turning to moans, loud and obscene. Otabek holds him close, lets him bounce on his lap to his heart’s content.

“Good. _Good, please.”_

Otabek laughs. _Laughs-_ deep and husky as he presses his lips to the spot behind Yuri’s ear. “God, I’m so in love with you.”

Yuri’s hips stutter. He feels full, so, so full and there’s tears welling up in his eyes as he moves faster, harder, trying to find that angle that’ll have Otabek’s cock pressing against his prostate.

When he finds it he cries out, the tears finally spilling over. “I love you, too. I love you, I love you.”

When Yuri comes, Otabek follows right after. It’s like violence after the calm, both of them shaking from the force of it. Otabek gentles Yuri through it, pushes his hair back and kisses his forehead, lays him out on the sheets and rubs his back.

“So you love me, huh?” Is the first thing he says and Yuri tries to hides his face in his hands, only to have them pulled away. Otabek is there, hair spread out on the sheets and smile so wide it’s practically splitting his face in half. Now that Yuri thinks about it, ever since they met Otabek has always been there either to drag him home or make sure he ate and slept enough. “Hey, Yuri look at me.”

Yuri does, eyes wide and lips parted because after this he doesn’t know what comes next. Otabek is holding his wrists, keeping him from hiding his face again.

“Like I said, I’m so, so in love with you.”

Yuri presses forward, skin to skin but with the afterglow that’s settled around them it’s different that it was at the beginning.

He places a kiss on Otabek’s lips.

“We’re so unexpected.” And somehow he manages to find the humor in the situation.

“But we’re good, right? We work.”

“Yeah.” Yuri kisses Otabek’s lips, tracing a line with the tips of his fingers from his jaw, down his side and to his hip, trying to memorize every detail as if Otabek isn’t going to be there when he wakes up. “We work just fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @ peaxhs on tumblr
> 
> there's [this](http://imthequeenofyaoi.tumblr.com/image/154733460696) picture that really saved my life
> 
> originally they were gonna slow dance at the very end and i was like nah.

**Author's Note:**

> peaxhs.tumblr.com


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